Flowers and the virus

The weather is definitely getting spring-like. Mr L was inspired to put the slabs back under the garden bench which used to sit in front of the hedge which we got removed last autumn. I feel rather guilty about removing the hedge, which probably supported lots of insects and thus birds, but on the other hand we allowed it to remain for over 30 years and I'm now enjoying the extra space in the garden. We have lots of other insects on other plants. Not to say slugs and snails - come and eat them, birds. The new fence looks a bit bald just now, but I'll plant things against it. 

My amaryllis is flowering rather spectacularly. Every year I think I'll split it up because it's horribly overcrowded in the pot and then every year, after it stops flowering, I don't bother. However, what's my excuse this year? Mind you, does it need splitting up? It could hardly be more floriferous.

And in Saughton Park, the heathers and hellebores are going their dingers too.

But, if one thinks about things too much, life is rather drear. The trick is probably not to think. I had my (Zoom) book group last night, and one of my friends has both of her children in Australia - permanently - and now her husband has developed cancer. So obviously her life is drearer - as are many people's, of course. This does make me feel that I ought to be appreciating my comparative luck. Which I do. But there are considerable improvements that could still be made, thanks, world. 

Still, things are gradually loosening - Big Grandson goes back to school on Monday and we're about to be allowed to meet up in fours outside. So... there's some hope.